"And we're off!," we screamed into the wind. Laughing with hysteria and a wild look in our eyes.
We were off on an adventure. An adventure of freedom, self expression and rebellion.
My pal Stephanie and I were the new Thelma and Louise.
Except we were taking off in a giant custom van, not a blue Thunderbird convertible. We weren't smoking cigarettes, we were sucking down lattes. And we weren't running away for weeks from husbands and boyfriends, we were running away for a couple hours from kids and mom responsibilities.
And hopefully it wouldn't end with a cliff.
We were on our way to a political meeting where we hoped to meet and greet an important senator from Washington. A woman role model we both admire.
It took a lot to get us out of the house. Childcare needed to be secured, meet up locations needed to be decided and more. By the time we were on the road we realized we didn't have an address for the meeting.
"Just start driving," was my pal's good advice.
So I did.
We ended up in a not so nice part of a nearby town, but we felt safe in our giant,sturdy custom van. Stephanie was trying to remember how to navigate the mean streets where she frequented as a somewhat delinquent youth. But since that was over 20 years ago, details were sketchy and we just ended up even more lost.
We had two iphones and an ipad working with us to get us there, but they weren't much use without an address.
"Oh, watch out a cop," said Stephanie, having a flashback.
"We aren't doing anything illegal," I reminded her. "Stupid isn't a crime."
Oh we thought that was soooooo funny.
Thelma and Louise we were not. More like younger versions of lame "Golden Girls."
We had a similar experience one time when we ran away on a trip to Washington, D.C. together. Beyond giddy, we almost skipped off the plane and onto the bus that would take us where we wanted to go (another political adventure). Problem was we weren't exactly sure then either exactly where we wanted/needed to go.
We rode that bus round and round in the circle around Reagan National Airport.
Until finally, a well-traveled looking business man took pity on us. He asked us where we were headed and pointed us in the right direction. "Are you guys from Minnesota?" he asked not being able to conceal his amusement with us/at us. Maybe our Michigan accents are thicker than we realized.
I call it our Rose Nylund, or our Golden Girl moment.
You see, as cliche stay-at-home mothers it feels damn good to run away. It feels even better to run away on a purposeful, politically-minded mini adventure with a pal.
So we may get the details muddled, but we have a hell of a time.
On another note, someone didn't get the family memo about my mission to not forget about Thanksgiving. Santa socks to school Lucy? Really?
I cannot believe it has been 20 years since this movie came out. I also cannot believe "at the age of 37" in the Marianne Faithfull song used to seem sooooo old.
We were off on an adventure. An adventure of freedom, self expression and rebellion.
My pal Stephanie and I were the new Thelma and Louise.
Except we were taking off in a giant custom van, not a blue Thunderbird convertible. We weren't smoking cigarettes, we were sucking down lattes. And we weren't running away for weeks from husbands and boyfriends, we were running away for a couple hours from kids and mom responsibilities.
And hopefully it wouldn't end with a cliff.
We were on our way to a political meeting where we hoped to meet and greet an important senator from Washington. A woman role model we both admire.
It took a lot to get us out of the house. Childcare needed to be secured, meet up locations needed to be decided and more. By the time we were on the road we realized we didn't have an address for the meeting.
"Just start driving," was my pal's good advice.
So I did.
We ended up in a not so nice part of a nearby town, but we felt safe in our giant,sturdy custom van. Stephanie was trying to remember how to navigate the mean streets where she frequented as a somewhat delinquent youth. But since that was over 20 years ago, details were sketchy and we just ended up even more lost.
We had two iphones and an ipad working with us to get us there, but they weren't much use without an address.
"Oh, watch out a cop," said Stephanie, having a flashback.
"We aren't doing anything illegal," I reminded her. "Stupid isn't a crime."
Oh we thought that was soooooo funny.
Thelma and Louise we were not. More like younger versions of lame "Golden Girls."
We had a similar experience one time when we ran away on a trip to Washington, D.C. together. Beyond giddy, we almost skipped off the plane and onto the bus that would take us where we wanted to go (another political adventure). Problem was we weren't exactly sure then either exactly where we wanted/needed to go.
We rode that bus round and round in the circle around Reagan National Airport.
Until finally, a well-traveled looking business man took pity on us. He asked us where we were headed and pointed us in the right direction. "Are you guys from Minnesota?" he asked not being able to conceal his amusement with us/at us. Maybe our Michigan accents are thicker than we realized.
I call it our Rose Nylund, or our Golden Girl moment.
You see, as cliche stay-at-home mothers it feels damn good to run away. It feels even better to run away on a purposeful, politically-minded mini adventure with a pal.
So we may get the details muddled, but we have a hell of a time.
 |
Steph, Debbie Wasserman Schultz (the DNC chairwoman) and me and my distracting flower pin.
And on this particular morning, we made it to our meeting. We met our role model.
And we felt like we mattered outside of our little worlds. And it felt f#*@ing great.
On another note, someone didn't get the family memo about my mission to not forget about Thanksgiving. Santa socks to school Lucy? Really? 
I cannot believe it has been 20 years since this movie came out. I also cannot believe "at the age of 37" in the Marianne Faithfull song used to seem sooooo old.
Never gets old to me...
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